


Some People are worth Freezing for

by jensennjared



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 18:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5385980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensennjared/pseuds/jensennjared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel goes wandering off in the snow by himself, Dean knows he has to find him — and teach him how to make snow angels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some People are worth Freezing for

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Destiel Christmas Mini Bang.

Dean shivered against the cold despite the sturdy buffer of his jacket. The snow was falling thick and fast, coating the ground knee deep in soft white. During the winter, the landscape around the bunker was stark and barren, but the snow made everything look appealing and quaint. Dean didn’t mind the snow — when he wasn’t hunting anyway. Tracking a shape shifter or a nest of vampires was miserable in the snow; it meant cold, shaking hands turning numb against the barrel of the gun, and feet slipping and sliding on black ice hidden beneath. No, the snow was best observed on a day with nothing to do.

Pushing the bunker door open, Dean descended the stairs, carrying half melted snowflakes on his shoulders. His feet left muddy puddles down the corridors — a mess that he wouldn’t be able to leave for long. He’d been on a grocery run. With three mouths to feed, they were going through a ton of food every week, which meant increasingly frequent supply runs. Castiel was eating them out of house and home with his sudden appetite for PB and Jelly sandwiches. Making his way down to the kitchen, he heard Sam’s footsteps round the corner.

“Hey, uh, let me grab a couple…” Sam said as Dean off-loaded a few cases of beer into Sam’s arms. “Still snowing out there?”

“Ya think?” Dean rolled his eyes before taking the lead into the kitchen. “| reckon we’re gonna get snowed in. It’s friggin’ knee deep out there already.”

“Good thing you stocked up then.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, before pulling three jars of peanut butter out of the paper bags. “Tell Mr. Netflix-and-Chill that I got him the peanut butter he asked for.”

“Uh, he went out — a couple hours ago I think.” Sam ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, where’d he go?”

“Just said he was going for a walk.” Sam shrugged, nonplussed by Castiel’s desire to leave the confines of the bunker.

“And you just what, let him go?”

“He’s an adult, Dean.”

“Barely.” Dean’s eyed widened as he stopped to berate Sam. “He’s human now — I just, I think we should keep an eye on him is all.”

“Yeah, sure, keep an eye on him. But not babysit. He’s not stupid — and anyway, he’s warded.” Sam delved back inside of the grocery bags to unpack the last of the shopping. From behind, he heard Dean shuffling towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“To find him before the snow gets worse.” Turning on his heel, Dean walked out of the kitchen and pulled out his cell, punching Castiel’s number into the keypad. As expected, the call went straight to voicemail, presumably out of range.

Stepping outside, the direction Castiel had taken quickly became evident. “Sure, the guy’s an ex-angel, but he can’t cover his tracks.” Dean sighed, stepping into the footprints Castiel had left in his wake.

The snow crunched underfoot as Dean scanned the forest. It was eerily quiet; the wildlife was snuggled up out of sight, bracing themselves for the harsh winter. Dean shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, wishing that he was inside by the fire, instead of traipsing through mountains of snow. It was still falling, steadily, around him. “Cas!” Dean called into the wilderness, crossing his fingers for a reply.

Silence.

“Cas, you better get your feathery ass over here.” Referring to him as an angel was reflexive. Dean wasn’t used to Castiel’s newly acquired humanity yet.

Silence.

“I’m freezing my—”

“I’m over here, Dean.” Castiel’s ethereal voice came from the left, and Dean waded through the snow in pursuit. Dean could see Castiel on the ground, the warmth of his body melting the snow around him. The trees had parted into a clearing and Castiel was staring straight up towards the cloudy, overcast sky.

“What the hell?” Dean said as he stood over Castiel, staring down at him. “What are you doing?”

“It is an old adage that no two snowflakes are the same.” Castiel said, completely ignoring Dean’s bemusement. “I’m afraid this isn’t true, Dean.”

“Okay, uh, MythBuster. Thanks for that.” Dean replied, shaking his head in confusion. “Come on, we gotta get you back. I think the snow’s frozen a few braincells.”

“I’m fine.” Castiel sighed; his gaze drifted from the falling snow to fix upon Dean’s face.

“Well, since you’re down there, you should take a crack at snow angels.”

“Snow… _angels_?” Castiel squinted.

“Yeah, snow angels. You just lie down, and flap your arms and legs around. It leaves a shape in the snow.”

“Can you show me?”

“No way, Elsa. I’ve got no desire to freeze to death. You’ll have to work it out for yourself.” Dean shrugged, kicking the snow under his feet. “Anyway, I’m gonna head back. Don’t stay out in it too long, okay.” Dean turned, beginning his return journey to the bunker, as Castiel’s hand flew out and grabbed Dean’s ankle, pulling him to the floor. Clouds of soft, pillowy snow cushioned his fall.

“Dammit, Cas!” Dean rolled over onto his back, staring up at the sky with disdain. Castiel shifted beside him, and Dean looked over to see Castiel smirking. “It ain’t funny. We’re gonna get frostbite.”

Castiel delved into his pockets and pulled out two pairs of woollen mittens. “Put these on. They’ll prevent your extremities from frostbite.” Castiel handed Dean a pair, before pulling on his own.

“Mittens, seriously?” Castiel merely nodded at Dean, and despite Dean’s irritation, he begrudgingly slipped his fingers inside the gloves. It was warmer, he couldn’t deny that.

“Now, you were going to show me how to make a snow angel?” Castiel rolled over onto his side, giving Dean his full attention, student to scholar.

“Fine.” Dean sighed, before splaying his arms and legs out wide. “You just gotta plant your arms and legs in the snow, and then, y’know, wiggle them around a bit. Like this…” Moving his arms up and down in the snow, and his legs side to side, Dean shifted the snow beneath him. Castiel watched him with intensity, their proximity too close for comfort. “There, you got that?”

“I don’t see how imprints in the snow can be construed as an angel.”

“You gotta stand up first to see the full effect.” Dean huffed, his breath billowing from his mouth. “You gonna give it a go?”

“I will, in a moment.” Castiel laid back again, his gaze returning to the sky above. “This is my first snow — as a human. It is beautiful, Dean. Colder than I imagined.”

“I thought the cold never bothered you anyway.” Dean smirked, his eyebrows drifting into his hairline.

“As an angel, I didn’t experience temperature changes… or the entire scope of human emotion. Now, without my grace, everything seems poignant — much more vivid — as if every other experience I have had thus far pales in comparison.”

“I gotta admit you’re different. Less of a jackass.”

“Dean,” Castiel said the name as a warning. His features softened again, and he shifted closer to Dean’s side. “Did you know snow is colourless? Many people assume it’s white, but this is not the case.”

“Again with the snow facts, huh?”

“My humanity doesn’t prevent me from accessing knowledge I acquired as an angel. If that were the case, you and Sam would find yourself increasingly ill equipped during research sessions.” Castiel smiled, sending a sideways glance to Dean. The hunter huffed in response. “I still know a great deal about this world and the way it works — the way it was brought into creation. I just… experience it differently now.”

Dean could detect the sadness in his tone. He knew what Castiel had given up — the true magnitude of his sacrifice. “Yeah, I know, Cas.” He gulped before asking the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since Castiel used his grace to defeat the Darkness — to save Dean. “Do you regret it? Becoming human, I mean?”

Castiel’s head whipped around to look at Dean, his eyes went wide with surprise, and then, understanding. Dean would always forget his worth. “Never.”

Dean nodded, trying to let the emotional moment pass without occasion.

“I have sacrificed everything — my mission, my brothers, my very grace — and every single time, I have told myself that it is for the greater good, for some divine purpose. But others have seen through me. They can see my selfishness at the root of it all.” Castiel sighed, noticing the confusion written into Dean’s features. Castiel reached out, taking Dean’s hands into his own. “Everything I have ever done has had the sole purpose of keeping you alive. I could never regret that.”

Castiel’s words warmed Dean from the inside out. Suddenly, he couldn’t perceive the chill in the air or the snow that had seeped into his jeans.

“You’re such a sap, Cas.” Despite his words, Dean squeezed Castiel’s hands, letting him know that the feeling was mutual. Dean waited another beat, enjoying the calm that had settled between them, before taking a deep breath and pushing himself into a standing position. “Alright, Elsa, take a shot at making an angel.” Dean nudged Castiel’s shoulder, and the ex-angel leaned back into the snow and began to flail his limbs around.

“Like this?” Castiel asked and Dean nodded.

“Okay, now stand up and take a look.” Dean helped Castiel to his feet, making sure he didn’t ruin the angelic shape on the ground. “See that? You’re an expert.”

“Huh,” Castiel squinted his eyes at the imprint in the snow. “That does not resemble my previous true form. I think you are mistaken by referring to this activity as making _snow angels_.”

“Meh,” Dean shrugged, “it’s not a perfect science. Come on, let’s get back. I got you the peanut butter you like.”

“The extra crunchy kind?”

“Yeah, of course, Cas.” Dean smiled as he led Castiel back towards the bunker, still hand in hand. “Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to make Olaf.”

“They really do gloss over Elsa’s ability to create sentient life. I suppose we could hypothesise that she is God — a powerful elemental deity, perhaps.”

“I guess so.” Dean chuckled. They were definitely not watching _Frozen_ again.


End file.
